But Gentles did not seem to be in the slightest degree ashamed of himself, but took his pipe from the shelf, where his wife had laid it, struck a match, relit it, and went off with his hands in his pockets.
Mrs Gentles rose and followed him to the door, and then returned, with her lips tightened and an angry look in her face.
“Now he’s gone off to booblic,” she said angrily, “to hatch up and mess about and contrive all sorts o’ mischief wi’ them as leads him on. Oh the times I’ve telled him as they might make up all the differ by spending the time in work that they do in striking again’ a sixpence took off or to get one putt on! Ay, but we missuses have but a sorry time!”
The absence of Gentles’ furtive look sent back at me from the door seemed to change the effect of his wife’s voice, which by degrees grew soothing and soft, and soon after I dropped off asleep, and dreamed of a curious clinking going on, from which dream I awoke, with my head cooler, and Mrs Gentles bending over me and fanning my face with what looked like an old copy-book.
I looked at her wonderingly.
“That’s better,” she said. “Now set up and I’ll help thee dress; and here’s a nice cup of tea ready.”
“Oh, thank you!” I said. “What time is it?”
“Close upon five, and I thowt you’d be better now after some tea.”
She helped me on with my jacket, and I winced with pain, I was so stiff and sore. After this she insisted upon putting on my boots.
“Just as if I heven’t done such things hundreds of times,” she said cheerfully. “Why, I used to put on the mester’s and tak ’em off all the time his leg was bad.”